Heart To Heart
by Porter Bailey
Summary: Timon has a long, comforting discussion with his Ma', Honey. Contains references to pairings.


Timon and Honey: Heart-To-Heart

"It's so great to finally get some time alone with you, Timmy." Honey said, sitting down on a mossy log. She softly patted the spot next to her and watched her scrawny son take a seat next to her.

"Ma', we've had tons of alone time before." Her son, Timon, remarked.

"Not since your new life. Why, you've been so popular with the rest of the clan lately, I can hardly get a word in with you." She smiled.

"It's definitely a change from the way they treated me before." Timon reflected, almost sarcastically.

"I suppose I'm not used to not having you all to myself." Honey sighed longingly.

"I've been wanting to catch up with you, anyway. I mean, so much has changed in my life since we last met." He mumbled.

"Like?" She asked eagerly.

"Well, I've...met someone." He sheepishly admitted, wondering internally how his mother would react.

"Oh, like a...a love?" Honey inquired.

"Like a...'life-partner'. I really...love him." Timon nodded, scratching his fur nervously.

"Ah, I see." Honey nodded, still smiling Timon noticed.

"Are you alright with that?" He hesitantly asked after a silent moment.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She asked.

"I dunno', Ma'. I'm different enough as it is. I don't really need anything else adding on to that." Timon sighed.

"You know you'll always be my little Timmy. No matter what. I'm just glad you're happy." Honey smiled, warmly grasping her son's shaking hand.

"Thanks Mom..." He beamed, relief filling him.

"So, what's this I hear about you having a kid of your own?" She asked.

"He's not my kid." Timon said monotonously.

"Sure he isn't. I mean, you've only fed him, raised him, and taught him everything he knows." She commented, counting off on her digits.

"But, we're not...genetically related." Timon sighed.

"That doesn't matter. It's called 'adoption'." She used air quotes.

"He has real parents." He shrugged.

"He can have two sets of parents. And three dads." Honey added.

"Why are you so set on this idea?" Timon asked, slightly frustrated by his mother at that moment.

"I'm sorry, Timmy. I didn't know it would upset you. I guess I just like the idea that I have...a grandkid." Honey sighed, not wanting to distress her son.

"Oh...well, I mean I suppose he kinda' is my...son, I guess if you put it like that. It's just a complicated situation." He mumbled guiltily.

"Well, everything in life is at least a little complicated. If it wasn't, life wouldn't be nearly as entertaining." Honey almost laughed, mussing Timon's hair.

Suddenly getting absorbed by the process of fixing her son's locks, she licked her paws and flattened them onto his head. She seemed to not even notice his pain filled grimace.

"Ma'," Timon managed while his hair was being yanked, "I know this is how you show love, but I'm not a pup anymore."

Honey just rolled her eyes and continued smashing his fur flat.

"You're such a drama queen. You used to love when I did this when you were little." She added.

'Yes, when I was little...' Timon thought and also rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. He didn't want to admit it, but he slightly missed his mother's grooming routine. Only slightly, though.

"Mom?" He said.

"Yes, hon'?"

"Tell me what Dad was like." He requested, changing the subject.

Timon realized he'd never known much about his father. He knew that after he has passed, he had been raised by his mother and his uncle, Max. Timon found it hard to believe that Uncle Max and his mother were related. They were so different in personality, not to mention looks. Max had always wanted Timon to conform to the ways of life as a Meerkat (A.K.A. digging tunnels), which Timon had a hard time of doing. It was hard to get along with his uncle, though Timon knew Max held good intentions for him. Bottom line, Max was not his father.

"You've heard about your dad many times, Timmy..." Honey sighed, not wishing to talk about her late husband. She continued fussing with his hair, but now in angst.

"You never told me how he...died."

"Well, that's because you've never asked."

"I'm asking now, Ma'."

Honey sighed inwardly, knowing when Timon was determined, he wouldn't let it go. She then dropped her hands from his head, and rested them in her lap.

"Your father was...an interesting person. He was a different sort, that's for sure. But, I loved him just the same."

"What was he like?" Timon asked.

"Well, he had this nutty idea that we could somehow make peace with the hyena's. That we could all be friends, and never live in fear again. Naturally, the rest of the clan hated him for being different." Honey admitted.

"So, he was an outcast. I guess it runs in the family." He sighed.

"Possibly." She chuckled.

"But, how did he die?"

"Well...he got eaten trying to make small talk with a hyena while on sentry duty."

"Well, that's pleasant." Timon said sarcastically.

"I never said your father was smart. I even found him to be a little off his rocker, but very brave nonetheless. And I loved him just the same."

"Is that why you're so overprotective of me?" Timon asked, eyebrow raised.

"I am not!" Honey said, but with a smile. She knew she was a tad protective of her now grown son.

"Sure..." He rolled his eyes.

"You should be more understanding. Aren't you protective of your own kid?"

"...a little, when he was younger." Timon unwillingly admitted.

"See?"

"But, he's an full, grown lion now and I don't want to butt in on his life."

"Do I 'butt in' on your life?" Honey asked, concerned.

"Not at all, Ma'." Timon assured her, patting her paw.

"Just tell me if I do, alright?" She requested.

"Of course..." Timon said, but distantly. He was deep into another thought. Honey noticed this.

"What's eating you, Timmy?"

"Nothing..." He sighed.

"Timon, what is it?" Honey said, knowing her son was hiding something.

"It's just, well, he's...getting married soon." Timon confessed.

"Who?" She asked, confused.

"My 'kid'." He answered using air quotes.

"That's wonderful! To whom?"

"Some childhood friend. It was before he was in our lives." Timon continued.

"Ah, I think I understand. Empty nest syndrome?" Honey asked.

"A little too literally, Ma'." Timon agreed.

"So, do YOU want grandkids?" She smiled.

"No! Well, at least...not yet. I feel too young to be a grandparent. I'm not even grey, yet." He almost laughed.

"How do you think I feel, then? I feel...old." Honey chuckled.

"You are NOT old, Mom." Timon grinned.

"Well, certainly Uncle Max is older than me."

"Yes, how is ye olde Fraught Fest?" Timon joked.

"Less fraught, actually. I think this new environment is helping him." Honey gestured at the tall rainforest surrounding them.

"Really?" He questioned.

"He's even taken up yoga." She nodded.

"Well, now that there's no more digging to be done, it IS nice to relax."

Timon expected his mother to say something after his sentence, but Honey merely sat quiet. She seemed to be staring into space, a thoughtful look covered her face. She then looked back up at him, and Timon stared into her eyes. The big, green eyes that were such a comfort to him when he was a lonely pup were still a loving comfort now. He realized at that moment how much he'd missed his mom earlier.

"Well," Honey finally said, hopping off the log, "I think I want to get cleaned up before dinner."

"Okay, Ma'." Timon said, also leaving the moss-covered log.

"Can I have a hug?" She requested, opening her arms wide. He received the hug gratefully. He used to be embarrassed by his mother's bone-crushingly tight hugs, but now he couldn't get enough of them. He reasoned that her hugs were the reason he was so bizarre, but he knew he could accept that. If Timon was anything, it was a mama's boy.

"Love you, Timmy." Honey whispered, squeezing her son.

"Love you too, Ma'." He breathed, letting his mother's scent almost sink into his fur.

She let go of him, and just held his paws for a moment.

"Oh, hon', one more question?" Honey said suddenly.

"Anything."

"That whole 'dress' thing was a onetime thing, right?" She asked, trying not to cringe.

The horrific image of himself dressed as a hula dancer flashed through Timon's mind. His eye twitched.

"Absolutely!" He spat out.

Honey laughed at this, and Timon felt himself relax again.

"I'm proud of you, Timon." She added. Honey kissed her son on the cheek, and wandered off in the opposite direction.

"You have no idea how much that means to me, Ma'." He mumbled when she was gone.


End file.
